Stalker
by GregsMadHatter
Summary: The CSIs were being watched by the most unlikely person imaginable...Longer & better summary inside!
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Stalker**

**Author: GregSanders**

**Summary: One man goes and watches six different people, all whom work at the Las Vegas Crime Lab. After watching them all carefully, he makes a choice and begins to send threatening letters to them. But when an attempt to catch him goes very wrong, can the team solve the case when the victim is one of their own and the suspect is a well known serial killer?**

**Spoilers: Lab Rats**

**Disclaimer: I do not own CSI, not even the bad guy in this story. It is all owned by CBS.**

**

* * *

Chapter 1 **

She was so beautiful…so delicate…so right, but when he watched her more carefully, he knew right away that there would be too many mistakes. This woman would have fought back…and fought back hard. In fact, she was so unpredictable that he could never plan what she would do in the next ten seconds. Too much evidence, not well planned, she was not ripe for the picking.

* * *

He was so smart…so intellectual…so peace-loving. Could this man be his next victim? He was well organized, but way too careful…it would never work. Also, if this man was so smart, he was definitely a worthy opponent. Killing him just wouldn't seem right. Too intellectual, too good-natured, this grape was not ready to be picked off the vine.

* * *

She had a nice body…beautiful smile…so active! He could barely keep track of her. How could he plan if he could never find her? It was near impossible. But what put the icing on the cake was the teenage girl that ran into the room and gave her a loving hug. She never knew her real mother, so why break them up? A mother always active…it just didn't seem right.

* * *

He was bold…he was brave…he was muscular. What a perfect specimen…save for one thing; no routine. Everyday he did something different. One day he would wake up at seven in the morning, the next he would wake up at two in the morning. It was practically impossible to calculate his next move. This star would still burn bright for a little longer.

* * *

He was bright…he was muscular and…he was married? This little test subject of hers had found true love and was now bonded for life to one woman. How could she decide this one man's fate when he was in love? Sure, the couple had their occasional fights, but who didn't? If she ended their happiness, she would lose the reason why she began in the first place. This one man was not right.

* * *

He was so young…so energetic…so crazy. But in between his wacky self, the young man had a well planned routine. Everyday, he would get up, make some coffee, take a shower, get dressed, have some breakfast, read the paper, and go to work. And when he came home, he changed into his pajamas and went to sleep. It was perfect. The miniature killer had chosen her prey.

* * *

"Hey Greg, I've been looking all over for you. Where have you been?" asked Gil Grissom as he approached Greg Sanders, who was resting his head on the table. 

"Sorry, I haven't slept for a couple of days now. What's up?"

"You've got a 419 on the strip."

"Please tell me there is no dumpster diving involved."

Grissom couldn't help but smile at this remark. A couple days earlier, he had given Greg a 419 in a dumpster. When he came back to the lab, Greg was not in a very happy mood with Grissom. "So far, no dumpster diving involved. I would lend you Nick or Sara, but they have cases of their own, so you're working solo tonight."

As Grissom walked away, Greg smiled. Even though he loved to work with his friends, Greg loved to work solo on a case. I t made him fell important. As Greg walked down the hall, he spotted Nick Stokes walking out of the DNA lab. "Hey Nick, how's your case coming?"

"Well, a dead body of a girl was found in an abandoned shack where there were thousands of bullet casings. Bobby's running ballistics now and Wendy just identified the body as Kim Jason. I definitely could use some help."

"I'd love to, but I have a DB of my own. Catch you later?"

Nick nodded and walked off to ballistics while Greg walked into the garage. As Greg walked through the door, Warrick Brown walked in and headed directly to the Trace lab where he me the residential lab rat, David Hodges. "You paged me?"

"Yes. The little clear fragment you gave me that looked like glass was in fact glass."

From day one, everyone knew that Hodges was a sarcastic suck up to Grissom and Ecklie. Even though he gave shit to everyone, he gave it the most to Greg. Everyone thought it was because Greg use to work in the lab and now that he was in the field, Hodges believed he was a traitor. "Can you tell me what it came from?"

"A window. A car window to be exact. Didn't you find broken glass on the victim?"

"Yeah. If I brought in a sample, could you tell me if that came from the same car?"

"Of course."

Warrick thanked Hodges and began to walk to the evidence log. As he rounded the corner, he ran into Catherine Willows. "Oh, hey Catherine."

"Hey Warrick. Heading to the evidence log?"

"Yeah. I'll catch up with you later."

Catherine smiled as she walked into the print lab where she saw Jacqui Franco hover over the computer. "You paged?"

"Yeah, the prints on your murder weapon belong to a David Harness. Prior convictions include grand larceny, assault, and grand theft auto."

"Got an address?"

"Just printed it out for you."

Jacqui handed the paper over as Catherin thanked her. As Catherine headed to the garage, she passed the A/V lab where Sara Sidle sat with Archie Johnson. "There, did you see that?" asked Archie.

"Yeah, can you enhance that?"

After a few keystrokes, a man appeared on the screen. "Isn't that your suspect?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna go have a chat with him. I'll see you later," said Sara as she ran out of the A/V lab. While everyone was busy running around the place, a young man walked in holding an envelope. He walked up to the front desk and said, "Excuse me, but could you give this to Mr. Gil Grissom whenev3er he is the least busy?"

The receptionist, Judy, smiled warmly and watched as the man walked out the door. What Judy didn't know was that inside that envelope was a message that would change the Graveyard Shift's life forever.

TBC…

**

* * *

So, what do you guys think? From those context clues, can you guess who the killer is gonna go after? Please R&R! **


	2. Chapter 2

**WOW! That was an amazing turnout! Well then, I better get the next chapter up, right? Also, I realized I made a mistake in the 1st chapter, so I went back and fixed it.**

**

* * *

Chapter 2**

Grissom had just returned from his crime scene, which was, in fact, just two kids lighting fireworks in a barrel in their backyard, when Judy called out, "Mr. Grissom, a man left this for you."

Grissom turned around and saw Judy holding up an envelope. "Thank you Judy."

After he took the envelope away from Judy, Grissom walked off into his office and threw the envelope onto the desk next to his miniature of his office. Catherine had seen the project that Grissom had spent much of his time doing and found it quite interesting. But that didn't bug Grissom one bit. As he continued to work on his little model, he took a couple glances at the envelope, wondering if he should open it. It was probably the right choice, but then again, it could be from Ecklie stating how he should work his team harder. Conrad Ecklie was such a pain in the ass. Hoping to avoid it, Grissom continued to work until Catherine came in. "Are you gonna open that?"

Grissom looked up at the blonde ex-dancer and back at the envelope. "Maybe later."

"Well, you remember last time you avoided your mail and you had an exact replica of a crime scene that hadn't even taken place yet on you desk? You don't want to make that same mistake again, do you?"

With that statement, Grissom smiled. "Alright."

So, Grissom put aside his project and picked up the envelope. It was quite light, indicating that it was nothing more than a letter. But what he found interesting was that there was no return address. It definitely wasn't from Ecklie. Catherine hadn't noticed the absence of the return address as well and sat down in the chair opposite of Grissom as Grissom opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. The inscription read:

**Dear Mr. Grissom,**

**You do not know who I am, but you know what I do. You continue to search for the one known as the miniature killer, correct? That one man is me. You don't know where I am, where to find me, or who I'll kill next. But, I thought I might give you a hint. After all, it is someone you work with and someone close to you. I will not tell whether they are male or female, where they live, or where I'll kill. I'll leave that up to you. After all, you are a very smart man. I hope to see you soon.**

**Happy Hunting Mr. Grissom.**

**The Miniature Killer**

As Grissom's eyes scanned the page, he held his breath and felt fear grow through him. "What's the matter Gil?" asked Catherine.

But Grissom didn't say anything, he just handed the letter over to her. Catherine took the letter and read it over. "What does this mean?"

"Get everybody here at the lab pronto. I don't want any excuses. Tell them to meet me in the layout room stat."

Catherine stared at Grissom as he ran out of the room, leaving Catherine puzzled inside his office. Grissom immediately walked up to Judy. "Judy, can you describe the man that gave you this letter?"

"No, his face was obscured by a baseball bat. I could make out a fresh beard though. He was also wearing gloves. I found that kind of weird," said Judy.

Grissom thanked the small receptionist and walked over to the A/V lab. "Archie, I need you to get the security footage from the lab and focus on the video feed from the camera pointing at the reception desk."

"Yes sir," said Archie as Grissom walked out of the room. Things were beginning to get out of hand.

* * *

The whole team was standing around the large table in the layout room, waiting for Grissom to show up. "Where is he? He told us to be here stat and yet, he's late," said Warrick.

"What's going on Cath?" asked Nick.

"I think I should let Grissom explain," replied Catherine as Grissom walked into the room.

"It's about time Grissom," said Greg.

"Sorry, I was held up. Just today, Judy gave me this letter, saying that a man left it for me," said Grissom placing the letter into the middle of the table.

"The letter is from the Miniature Killer," informed Grissom as Sara read the letter and then passed it on to Greg.

"What does this mean? Is he going after one of us?" asked Sara.

"So far, that how I've interpreted it. Archie is looking over the feed from the lab's security cameras now."

"What are we going to do? We can't exactly go home if this guy knows where we live," explained Nick.

"I don't know Nick," said Grissom as Archie came running through the door. The whole team stood there, thinking of what they were going to do.

* * *

Meanwhile, the Miniature Killer was huddled over a small replica of their next victim's house when the messenger walked in. "Did he get the message?" asked the killer.

"Yes ma-àm," replied the messenger.

The red-haired woman looked up at the messenger and smiled. "Good," she said as she picked up a doll and smiled at it.

TBC…

**

* * *

So, what do you guys think? Please R&R!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, I know that the finale already aired, but this is before they know who the miniature killer is.**

**Chapter 3**

Due to the letter, Grissom had advised that everyone stay here at the lab until they caught the killer or were ruled out as a possible victim. Each were in grave danger and couldn't go home. Catherine began to fear for her daughter's life, knowing that there was no way she could get home to make sure she was fine. Everyone seemed to be uptight…save for Greg. They found that quite odd, considering the circumstances they were in. But then again…it was Greg. As they each stood in the break-room, Grissom sat secluded in his office, pinching the bridge of his nose between his two fingers. This year had been so dramatic. First, it was the attacks on Catherine and her family, then it was the night Greg got beat up for saving a man's life. Later, it was finding out they had a serial killer on their hands and Greg going to a inquest for the death of one of the perpetrators…and then the family suing him. Later, Grissom left to go on a sabbatical and left the entire team behind with Keppler, who turned out to be dirty. Then there was the whole fake-a-crime-scene that made the team turn on Catherine and then Greg's civil suit being tossed out. Later, the family of the dead kid came under investigation when his brother was suspected of murder and the mother coming in all hysterical…to tell the truth, Greg had been having a pretty bad month. As Grissom sat contemplating what to do, Brass walked through the door. "Do you enjoy being alone?"

"It helps me to think. What do you need Jim?"

"I just wanted to let you know that Atwater is calling my office nonstop because he wants to know what the hell is going on. What should I tell him?"

"Tell him that we have a threat against my team by the Miniature Killer. That pretty much sums it up."

Brass nodded and walked out of Grissom's office towards his own when over the intercom came, "Captain Brass to the front desk, please. Captain Brass to the front desk."

Shaking his head, Brass walked out to the front desk and found Rory Atwater standing there waiting for him. "Hey Rory, good to see you."

"I've been trying to get a hold of you. I need to know why we still have the entire Graveyard shift hiding out in the lab."

"Well, turns out we have a threat from the Miniature Killer that they want to kill one of them. So far, we have no idea on who they are targeting, so for all of their safety, we're keeping them here."

"I want you to keep me posted on this, got it?"

Brass nodded and watched as Atwater walked out the door. As Atwater walked in, a mailman walked in and handed a bunch of envelopes to Judy. Sitting right on top was a letter addressed to Grissom. "Captain, Grissom has a letter."

Slowly, Brass turned and saw Judy holding up the envelope. "Thanks Judy, I'll deliver it to him."

Before Brass grabbed the letter, he took out his handkerchief and placed it over his hand as to not disturb any fingerprints that may be from the killer. Quickly, he ran back to Grissom's office and found him in the same state. "Gil, this just came in for you."

Grissom looked up and saw the letter. After taking out a glove from his drawer, he took the envelope and ripped open the envelope. Sitting inside was a letter. Slowly, he unfolded the paper and read:

**Dear Mr. Grissom,**

**How are you feeling? Worried? Good. Maybe I can shed some hope on your despair. I can tell you who I'm NOT going to kill. As long as they don't have a family they live with, they're free to go. I suspect that rules out two of your teammates, doesn't it? If you don't know who, which I think you do, I'll just say their names; Catherine Willows and Warrick Brown are in the clear. Happy Hunting!**

**The Miniature Killer**

"What does it say?" asked Brass.

"Catherine and Warrick are safe," is all that Grissom replied.

Quickly, Grissom stood up from his desk and ran into the break-room. "Guys, I just got another letter."

"What does it say this time?" asked Nick.

"He or she just ruled out two of you guys."

"Alright…who?" urged Sara.

With a smile, Grissom turned to Catherine and Warrick. "Catherine, you and Warrick are safe."

Catherine and Warrick sighed with relief as Sara, Nick and Greg hung their heads low in disappointment. "Hey Gil, do you mind if I go back home to Lindsey?"

"No, go on ahead."

"I'll go with her. Good luck guys," sighed Warrick to the rest of the team as he followed Catherine out of the room.

"They are some lucky sons of a gun," smiled Greg.

"Yeah, but that still isn't any good news to us. What can we do, Boss?" asked Nick.

"Just sit and hope another comes to clear your guys's name."

The three sighed with loss of hope as Grissom walked out of the room. As he closed the door behind him, he turned to Brass and said, "I want you to post two officers here to make sure that no one gets near them with intent to harm them."

Brass nodded and watched as Grissom went back into the solitude of his office.

* * *

Back at her lair, the miniature killer continued to make the replica of her next crime scene. She smiled at her work as she continued to paint the doll's hair brown and bruises around the doll's neck. After the doll was finished, she placed a black t-shirt and jeans on the doll. After the doll was dressed, she placed it underneath the magnifying glass and continue to add the small details.

TBC…

**Sorry it isn't as good as the last two. But please, leave a review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Well, we're getting close to finding out who the victim is. Sorry for the long delay, evil writer's block. There's a hint of Snickers in this chapter, along with full blown GSR! **

**Chapter 4 **

Catherine and Warrick were safe. At least they would be able to sleep well that night. However, Nick, Sara and Greg were sitting in the break-room, biting their nails and worried sick. Well, Nick and Sara were. Greg had pulled out his iPod and began listening to Marilyn Manson. But, that was how Greg coped with scary situations. As they sat in the small room, Sara looked at Nick and asked, "You worried?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Yeah. Do you think Greg is?"

Nick looked over and stared at Greg's bobbing head. "Yeah, he is. That's how Greg copes with situations like these."

Sara smiled weakly and looked down at the table. Slowly, Nick placed his hand on Sara's. Sara looked up and stared at Nick's brown eyes. "Everything will be fine. Grissom, Catherine and Warrick are going to find the killer and we'll all be safe."

Again, Sara smiled weakly, but didn't look at the table this time.

* * *

Down the hall sat Grissom, deep in thought in his office. He was very happy that Catherine and Warrick were safe and sound, but he was still worried about Nick, Greg and Sara. He wanted to do whatever he could to make sure they were safe. But thanks to evil Ecklie, Ecklie had 'informed' Grissom that Dayshift was going to take over the case, seeing as that the case was too close to home. Ecklie had also wanted Nick, Sara and Greg to go home because 'The lab was an office, not a daycare.' At some point in time, Grissom was going to have to walk into the break-room and tell three of his friends that they had to leave the safety of the lab and go home. Grissom was just about to stand up when Brass came walking in, clutching a letter. "Gil, it's from him."

Quickly, Grissom snatched the letter from Brass and read the contents.

**Hello there, Mr. Grissom. Still worried? Good, you should be. I'm sure you're relieved that dear Willows and Brown are safe and sound….lucky them. However, I should be worried if I was male…yes, that's right. My next victim is not female. I'm supposing that rules out Miss Sara Sidle, doesn't it? You had better find me soon, I'm getting anxious. **

**The Miniature Killer **

Grissom's heart skipped a beat as he read this. Sara was safe…thank God! Grissom had no idea what he was going to do if Sara had died. He loved her too much to lose her. "What does it say?" asked Brass.

"Sara's safe, that's what is says," replied Grissom as he ran out of the office and down the hall, where Nick, Sara and Greg sat. As soon as he walked through the door, Greg pulled out his headphones and, with Nick and Sara, looked up. "I just got a letter. Sara…you're safe."

Sara smiled widely and jumped up, wrapping her arms around Grissom. Nick and Greg sank lower into their chairs as Sara held Grissom. Grissom let slip and smile and whispered into her ear, "It's alright, Sara, go home."

As Sara pulled away, a tear fell down her face. "Thank you, Grissom."

And with that, Sara ran down the halls, leaving Nick and Greg disappointed. "I'm sorry, guys," sighed Grissom.

"No, it's alright," smiled Nick.

Grissom turned and looked at Greg, who's face was etched with disappointment. "Greg?"

"Hm? Oh yeah, I'm fine."

Grissom raised his eyebrow and walked out the door. As soon as Grissom was gone, Nick turned to Greg and asked, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm actually relieved that Sara's safe. Don't worry, I'm sure they're gonna find him."

And with that, Greg put his headphones back in and listened to music some more.

* * *

Leaving the small, brunette doll off to the side, the young woman began painting the small house in which her doll would die in. The walls were shaded blue and green, the carpet a pure white. The sofa lay on the north wall and the TV was on the south wall. After she had put the final touches on the house, she picked up the doll and brought it up to her eyes. "Hello, my precious," she smiled and she placed a rope around the doll's neck and placed it in the house.

After she tied the rope to the rafter in the middle of the room, she examined her house more closely and laughed. "No, one more final touch."

Slowly, she rose from her desk and walked over to a chair that had paper and pencil lying on the desk in front of her. She wrote down a few words and at the bottom, she wrote, "Say good-bye, Nick Stokes."

TBC…

**Sorry if it's super short, I tried to make it as long as possible. Anyway, please R&R! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Ok, since there was a little confusion with the cliffhanger, I thought I would clear it up, since it will be resolved in this chapter.**

**Chapter 5**

No matter how much his stomach growled, Grissom could not ease that hunger. Maybe it was because it was now dwindling down to two people and knowing one was going to live and one was going to die. There had to be a way in order to make sure each was safe. After his failed lunch break, Grissom walked back into the lab where he saw Brass waiting at the front. "Grissom…the final letter came in."

Oh great, from the look on Brass's face, it wasn't good. "Grissom, before you read it, I have an idea."

"Go ahead, then," stated Grissom.

"I suggest that we post guards around his victim's house so that they stay safe. And if the Miniature Killer comes to claim his victim, we're ready."

Grissom hated to think that one of his friends was considered a victim. But, Brass was speaking sense, and what he said meant safety for either Nick or Greg. Slowly, Grissom nodded as Brass handed Grissom the letter. Slowly, he opened the envelope and extracted the letter.

**Dear Mr. Grissom.**

**This will be my final letter. You are probably dying to know who is my victim is. Is is lovable Greg Sanders with his raging hair and comedic personaility or strong Nick Stokes with his muscular body and great personality? Well, I'll tell you.**

**Nick Stokes is my victim.**

"Well, who is it?" asked Brass.

"It's Nick," sighed Grissom. Oh how much he was dreading telling Nick he was going to die. Why did it have to come down to this. But, he had to do it. "Brass, set up officers around his house right now. I don't want him to sneak in before anyone gets there, understand?"

Brass nodded as Grissom walked down the hall to the break room where Nick and Greg sat, biting their nails. As soon s he walked in the door, they stood up. "Well…I'm sorry I'm the one that has to break this to you, but…the killer just sent his letter and…I'm really sorry Nick."

Grissom didn't have to say more. Nick fell down in his seat as Greg placed his hand on his shoulders. "Man, I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine Greg."

"You can go ahead and go home, Greg."

Before Greg, he turned and looked at his best friend. "It's gonna be fine, right Griss?"

"Don't worry, Greg, we have a plan."

Slowly, Greg nodded and walked out of the door. As Greg diappeared, Nick looked up at Grissom. "What do I do, Grissom?" asked Nick.

"Brass is setting up officers around her house at this moment. I suggest you go in and relax."

"Wait, you want me to go home?"

"Of course I don't, but Ecklie is all over my ass telling me this lab is no daycare center. I would love to keep you here where it's safe, but I can't."

Slowly, Nick nodded and headed out the door. "Nick, one more thing."

Nick turned and looked at Grissom. "Keep your gun with you."

Again, Nick nodded and walked towards home.

* * *

That night, Grissom sat in his officer, his thoughts focused on Nick. The Miniature Killer's letter sat in front of him, staring back at him. After putting his glasses back on, he picked up the letter and stared at it closely. Why did the Miniature Killer leave a giant space in front of Nick's name? After staring at it more closely, he noticed some idnetaions in front of Nick's name. Thinking quickly, Grissom rummaged through his desk and pulled out a jar of lead. Slowly, he poured the lead over the space and rotated it back and forth. After he brushed the excess lead away, his eyes widened. The note actually read:

_**Greg Sanders, not **_**Nick Stokes is the victim.**

It was a trick! Quickly, he pulled out his phone and called Brass. "Jim, it's Gil. It's a trick! Greg is the victim, not Nick. Get over to Greg's house ASAP!"

After he hung up, Grissom picked up his phone and called Greg. But it went straight to voicemail. "Damn it, Greg."

* * *

Greg stepped out of the shower in his house, letting the fear that beheld him wash away. He was relieved it wasn't him, but he felt really bad for Nick. The Miniature Killer could be killing him right now. But Grissom assured him they had a plan. After Greg got dressed, he walked out into his living room and fell on his couch. How good did it feel to just sit back and relax. He had just turned on his TV when he heard something behind him. When he turned around, he didn't see anyone. After he turned back around to watch the TV when someone appeared behind his couch, a rope at the ready.

TBC…

**I hope that cleared it up. Please R&R!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for taking forever to write this chapter, I was stuck on what I was going to write. Something I frequently get called Writer's Block. Anyway, time for the next installment.**

**Chapter 6**

After calling Brass, Grissom had called the rest of the team to inform them of what was happening. Each member of the team had met Grissom at the lab as they filed into the large SUV and drove off towards Greg's house. How could they have let this happen? Of course the miniature killer would never reveal who their victim was. How could they have been so stupid? As they continued to follow the cop cars leading to Greg's home, they began to worry since Greg was never picking up his phone. Finally, they arrived at Greg's house. Police cars surrounded the front yard. The red and blue sirens lit the dark streets. Cops jumped from their cars and aimed their guns at the house. The CSI team sprang from their car and watched as Brass led a group of SWAT team members up to the front door. "LVPD, open up!"

There came no answer, just adding on to their worries. Finally, Jim took a step back and kicked the door down. The officers ran into the house, their guns drawn. The CSI team followed as the cops cleared the house. "They're not here," stated a cop.

Sure enough, there was no sign of Greg or any other person in that house. "Where are they?" muttered Grissom as Jim came walking up to them with a letter in his hand.

"Grissom, I found this."

Grissom took a latex glove from his pocket and took the letter from Brass's hands. Anticipation began to build up in his heart. After the seal was broken, Grissom extracted the letter and read aloud:

**To whoever finds this,**

**I must admit, Greg here was a hassle…not what I was expecting. Guess it's going to take a bit more than what I originally had planned to crack this nut. He'll be safe…for now. Consider this a game. You have to solve the puzzle. If you win, you get your precious Greg back. If you don't…then he's mine. Have fun.**

**Happy Hunting**

**The Miniature Killer**

The room grew silent. It seemed as if all the noise in the world had disappeared from the world. How could they have let this happen? All was still. The noise of the cops running by could not be heard. And then, with rage flowing through his veins, Grissom crumpled the letter in his hand and threw it across the room. This was not the end of it. Grissom was going to get Greg back at all costs. Even if it was the last thing he ever did. After figuring what had to be done, Grissom looked at his team who each had a look of failure on their faces. They had let Greg down by not protecting him. Now, he was God knows where…probably dead…no, Grissom couldn't feel this way. He had to stay positive. He had to keep his team positive. So, Grissom straightened up and approached his team. "Who here has their kits?"

Each member looked at Grissom like he was nuts. "Who has their kits?"

"None of us do, they're all back at the lab," stated Nick.

"Well, it's a good thing then that mine is in my car," replied Grissom as he ran out to his car.

They all looked at each other in confusion as Grissom returned with his one and only kit. "Greg's a CSI, so he knows how to leave behind evidence. Catherine, I want you to take the fingerprint powder and start dusting for prints. Nick, I want you to go with her and take the lifts. Lift any prints you find. Sara, take the camera, start taking pictures of any signs of disturbance. Warrick, take the dust-lifter and start looking for shoe-prints. I'll be examining the entire house with luminal and the UV light. If any of you see anything and need someone to come get a footprint or fingerprint or anything, use your cellphone. We need to comb this entire house for a clue to Greg's whereabouts. Be thorough, this is the only chance we have."

It was as if their spirits were lifted. Each member quickly grabbed their equipment and ran to different parts of the house, looking for any clue as to where Greg was. Grissom was right; this was the only chance they had at finding Greg. Each person hoped that Greg was still alive and making their job easier for them.

* * *

Greg Sanders woke up to find himself in a dark yet moving area, his hands tied behind him and something cutting into his skin. His head ached, his wrists were bleeding and wherever he was, it wasn't smooth and more pain was being added whenever there was a bump. Greg brought himself to one conclusion; he was in the trunk of someone's car. Question was; whose was it and how did he get there in the first place? He remembered watching a show on TV after getting home and then…he couldn't remember a thing. What happened? With another bump, he was thrown up into the top of the trunk, giving him another bruise. That's when Greg decided that he was going to save the how for later and try to find a way to get free.

There wasn't a whole lot of room in that trunk, so rolling around to bring his arms to the front was difficult…and painful. The zip ties that was holding his wrists together were cutting into his skin a lot more, and more blood was dripping down his hands. But, after one final, painful roll, Greg managed to bring his hands in front of his face. The white zip ties were now painted red and the skin around his wrists were incredibly raw. But Greg ignored the pain and began feeling around the trunk, hoping to find something that may help him escape. He didn't find much, except a wrapper from a cheeseburger and a jacket. But beneath the jacket was a box…a rather large box. After rolling to where he was facing the box, he removed the jacket. Unfortunately, it was too dark to see a thing. After feeling around a bit more, Greg came across a flashlight. Once he turned the thing on, he shined it on the box, and what he saw made his blood run cold.

It was a miniature. A miniature of his house with a doll that resembled him hanging from the rafters. So he was in the hands of the miniature killer. But, if the miniature was supposed to take place in his house, why was he in the back of someone's car? That's when it hit him.

He was watching TV when he felt a rope being tied around his neck. There was a choking feeling and he nearly passed out, but adrenaline was running through him and he managed to fight the attacker off. Once the attacker was on the ground, he took the rope off from around his neck and collapsed on the wall, coughing for air. He looked up to see his attacker. The image of the person was a bit blurry, but he remembered being punched in the stomach, knocking him to the ground. He tried to crawl away, but was dragged by his feet back to the center of the room. The rope was in view again, but Greg grabbed the closest thing he could find, which happened to be his remote, and chucked it at the person's head. He imagined that he hit the person in the head, because he remembered seeing red drops fall onto his carpet. Once his attacker was dazed and bleeding, he went for the phone, but the person tackled him. There was a struggle and then…darkness. He must have really screwed up the miniature in order for the killer to take him somewhere. Finally, the car came to a slow stop and the engine was turned off. Greg could hear the sounds of footsteps coming closer and the hatch being unhinged to open the trunk.

The outside was still dark. It must have been somewhere around midnight due to the light traffic. All Greg could see was the silhouette of whoever his attacker was. The person took a hold of Greg's arm and dragged him out of the car and into the fresh air. From being crammed inside the trunk for so long, Greg's legs were weak and could barely support his own weight. But the attacker dragged him to a small house in the middle of the quiet, sleeping neighborhood. Greg was forced inside and into the farthest room, which turned out to be a bedroom with only a mattress, bed frame and a chair inside. What a decorator. The attacker threw Greg onto the mattress without so much as a single word and went rummaging through the closet. Now was Greg's chance to make a run for it. The door was there, wide open. He was just about to run when the silhouette came up with a bat and swung it at him. The wood collided with his head and before he could even mutter a cry in pain, Greg went out like a light.

TBC…

**Alright guys, a long, descriptive chapter for you. Please R&R!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Okay, so uh…hmmm…I feel really bad right now for not updating this story…I feel like a real jackass right now for leaving you right there. Anyway, how bout I make it up to you by giving you a new chapter? I thought so. Also, the whole bleach thing that you will see comes from the previous episode, as you all know.**

**Chapter 7**

Nick and Catherine didn't want to miss a thing. Together, they slowly went over every inch of Greg's house. It was already a pigsty, like everyone knew before hand, which gave the killer and Greg more chances to leave a fingerprint behind. But they had to be careful. They only had a limited amount of fingerprint powder and a limited amount of print lifts. It was a daunting and a careful task. They had to be sure whether or not an object may have been touched by the killer or Greg. Together, with their gloved hands, they picked up, examined and questioned each object they found. Now, when I say questioned, I don't mean they talked to the item…that would be ridiculous. No, they questioned whether or not it was used in the struggle. As Nick picked up a book from the ground, he showed it to Catherine and asked, "What do you think?"

"Not unless there's blood on it, Nicky."

Nick set it down as Catherine noticed a black object lying next to two white spots on the carpet. The carpet was normally white, but these two spots were brighter than the rest of the carpet around it. Walking closer, she noticed it was a remote. "What do you think, Nick? The remote is on the opposite side of the couch just lying on the floor," stated Catherine.

Nick came over and stared at what she was looking at. "Possibly. What are those two white spots?"

"Well, we know the miniature killer uses bleach to clean up blood…maybe he used it to clean up some here."

"I'll call Grissom."

As Nick pulled out his phone, Catherine began to print the remote. It was wiped clean. Catherine cursed to herself as Nick shut the phone. "He's on his way. Did you get any prints?"

"No. The remote was wiped clean."

Nick could hint the frustration in Catherine's voice. Before Nick could say anything, Grissom ran into the room. "What is it?" he asked with the luminal and UV light in his hands.

"Can you check those two spots on the carpet? They're lighter than the carpet around them," replied Catherine, pointing to the spots.

Slowly, Grissom walked over and bent down, investigating the two spots on the ground. Before spraying his luminal on the two spots, he took out his UV light and asked, "Can you turn off the lights?"

Quickly, Nick turned off the lights as Grissom put on the filter and shined it on the two spots. The two spots darkened to a dark red. Nick turned on the lights as Grissom turned of the UV light. "It's blood…but it's bleached," he sighed.

"But…Greg doesn't use bleach…or at least, not normal bleach," stated Nick.

Grissom and Catherine looked at Nick. "Greg uses a bleach that gets rid of stains, but it's eco-friendly. It does everything normal bleach does…except it doesn't destroy DNA evidence."

Both Grissom and Catherine smiled. "It seems Greg's eco-friendly life finally paid off," smiled Catherine as Grissom swabbed one of the spots and dropped phenolphthalein on the swab. The cotton swab turned a bright red, indicating the presence of blood. "Let's hope we get a good sample from this," sated Grissom as he placed it in the swab collection box.

As Grissom stood up, his phone went off. After answering it, he greeted with a solid, "Grissom" and muttered a few "mmmhmmms" then finally shut his phone. "That was Warrick. I'll see you two later."

Once Grissom left, Nick turned to Catherine and asked, "Are you alright, Cath?"

Catherine turned to Nick and replied, "Yeah, why?"

"You just seem a little…you know…angry."

"I'm not angry…I'm frustrated. We missed on little clue…one critical clue and now Greg is missing, probably dead…and we've got nothing!"

Catherine was furious, as was everyone else. Nick walked over and placed a comforting hand around her shoulders. "It's going to be okay, Cath. We'll find him."

At first, Nick thought Catherine was crying, but she wasn't. She was too tough to cry. Everyone knew that. She was just…angry and depressed. Slowly, she turned her blue eyes up to him and asked, "How can you be fine?"

"To tell you the truth, I'm not. I feel incredibly guilty. There I was, sitting in my house, thinking the killer was after me and all of the cops were stationed outside my house. Greg was just sitting here relaxing, worrying about me. It's a good thing Grissom found that piece of the note, but still…" Nick paused, trying to think of what to say next. Finally, he finished, "You're not alone. We'll find him. The killer may be smart enough to clean up after themselves, but look what we've got! We've got Grissom, Sara, Warrick, me…and you. It won't be long until we find him. I promise."

And together, the two colleagues stood together, comforting each other and insuring they would find Greg.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the middle of the desert, the Miniature Killer was sitting in her basement, looking over the old model. Her perfect model…ruined! She was going to have to change everything! It was going to take a while to come up with a new brilliant plan, but she had to think fast. Her newest victim was upstairs, unconscious sure, but she didn't know exactly what was going to happen in the future. She needed to depose of him sooner rather than later. Finally, she tore up the old model and threw the pieces across the room in anger. Once the little plastic pieces fell to the floor, she looked down at her sketch book and thought until finally, a new idea formed in her demented mind and she began to draw.

TBC…

**There you go! There will be more soon, I promise. In the meantime, review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm REALLY sorry for the extent of time y'all had to wait for this, so I decided to force myself to write this out and lo and behold, I CAME UP WITH SOMETHING!**

**Chapter 8**

This time, when Greg woke up, he found a tray of food laying in front of him. It wasn't much, just a sandwich and a bottle of water, but it was better than nothing. Greedily, he took the sandwich from the plate and stuffed it in his mouth. The savory ham and mayonnaise may not have been his ideal sandwich, but it tasted so good. Once the sandwich was done, he took a swig from his water bottle and felt relieved as the H2O went down his throat. Although he craved more, Greg hid the water bottle under the chair so that he could have some later. Who knew how much longer the next he would be fed would be. With his stomach full and his thirst quenched for the moment, Greg finally got a chance to take in his surroundings. The lights were off, leaving the only source of light coming from the bottom of the door in front of him. As he stood up, he could feel his legs wobble beneath him. Not wanting to fall, he steadied himself before deciding to wander around the room to find something…anything. His hands were held out in front of him to stop him from running head first into a wall. After a few steps, his hands brushed against the wall. Greg took a moment to feel around and felt relief when he felt the familiar light switch. All it took was one light switch to illuminate the room.

It was a vastly different room than the one he remembered being in. How long had he exactly been knocked out for? The floor beneath him was wood and in the middle of the large room was a white rug. On top the rug sat a pristine oak coffee table and a tan couch facing an opposing wall with a fireplace that wasn't lit. There sat three bookcases on the other wall, the glass doors closed and extra clean. Behind the couch against the wall was an old bed with a gold frame and a complete set of sheets. Beside the bed sat a chute, much like those at a bank when depositing money in the drive thru. Greg gaze a quizzical glance as he turned to the door, only to see it reinforced with steel bolts and no handle. "So much for kicking down the door," he muttered as he walked away from the door and into the center of the room.

Once in the middle, Greg did a full 360, scanning the roof and walls for any possible means of escape. It was then that he noticed five different cameras that sat in the corners and right above him on the roof. The killer was watching him. Looking directly at one, he shouted, "HEY! CAN YOU HEAR ME?"

The red blinking light was the only sign of the camera actually working. "HEY! LET ME OUT OF HERE!"

It was a long shot, but he thought maybe he could appeal the killer's better nature…right, like the Miniature Killer had a better nature. "Freaky pyscopath," he muttered beneath his breath as he turned to the couch.

* * *

Meanwhile, the killer sat remodeling her miniature, the footage of Greg playing on five different TVs behind her. She seemed unfazed at her victim's pleas as she began to paint the bits of furniture that were to decorate her miniature. This time…it would be perfect.

TBC…

**I know, it's INCREDIBLY short, but I thought I would alert you guys to know it isn't dead. Please R&R!**


End file.
